Frodo could not believe what had transpired this very night. Suspicions. That was what he’d experienced and of all times he hoped he was wrong, this instance was a large one.

He knew he had to be strong. He was no child, but master of Bag End

However, Frodo could not escape one thought that stubbornly clung to his mind like a piece of grass on one’s feet.

He had never felt so alone. He had wonderful cousins, but was now bereft of the closest thing to his parent  since his had drowned.

Come back, Bilbo. I miss you dreadfully.